


The Fabulous Adventures of Happstablook

by The_Jade_Parade



Series: La Veuve Noire AU [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Frisk (Undertale), Backstory, Diary/Journal, Established Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Frisk is a Little Shit (Undertale), Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Invasion of Privacy, Mettaton (Undertale) Being an Asshole, Mettaton EX (Undertale), Nonbinary Monster Kid (Undertale), alphys and undyne are gay as fuck, burgerpants is underappreciated, mk uses alternating pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jade_Parade/pseuds/The_Jade_Parade
Summary: Happstablook floats outside of their little nook in Waterfall to explore the glitz-and-glam world of Hotland.
Relationships: Alphys & Mettaton (Undertale), Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Bratty & Catty (Undertale), Frisk & Monster Kid (Undertale)
Series: La Veuve Noire AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872229
Kudos: 6





	1. Hotland

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to Never Go To Parties tho i don't blame u if u don't wanna read that crap

“ _My Darling Diary,_

 _I met someone ... interesting today. Last week I posted that advertisement for my Human Fanclub. Today was our first meeting. Only one other person came. Honestly, she's a dork. And she's obsessed with these awful cartoons. But she's kind of funny, too ... I want to see her again_.”

“Oh, I wonder who that could be?” Frisk mumbles to themself with a who’s-that-pokemon voice in the quiet tranquility of some house they’d broken into with a stolen key.

“ _Dear Diary,_

 _She surprised me with something today. Sketches of a body that she wants to create for me ... a form beyond my wildest fantasies. In a form like that, I could finally feel like ... myself._ ”

Under the entry are some drawings, scribbled recreations of said sketches. A humanoid robot. It looks happy.

~~~

Happstablook was initially surprised when Alphys offered to meet up at their house to discuss things further. They had been left hanging when she abruptly ended the meeting, saying she had to go get some things from home and can she come to their place later.

Happ had never let anyone but family inside their abode, they considered it their comfort place, and anyone who’s allowed must be very close. Super duper close.

“Wow,” Alphys says, clawing off her sneakers and leaving them beside the welcome rug. “Your place. It’s really … pink.” She was much more stuttery when Happ first met her, Alphys. Now she just pauses a lot.

“Thank you, that’s what I was going for.” Happ’s tone is satisfied and a bit snooty as they float toward their bed. Halfway through, they suddenly stop themself, remembering their manners. “Can I get you anything? A drink, p’haps?”

Alphys stands awkwardly at the door, knee twitching the slightest bit. “Oh, that’s not necessary ... to get me, anything,” she says.

“Okay then.” Happ sits down on the carpet. Alphys follows suit. “So. You said you had something for me?”

“Right.” Alphys grabs her bag - a white bookbag with pictures of inked comics printed on - and unzips it. “I have these ... um, what’re they called, blueprints. Yes, of a body you might like. I can build it.”

“Oh?” Happstablook smiles pleasantly, leaning in closer to inspect said blueprints as Alphys spreads them out on the wooden floor. There are two of them. One is more rectangular while the other is much cooler. Alphys notices their eyes lingering on the second design and chuckles nervously.

“That one … would take me a long time to finish,” she says.

Happ snaps their head up. “You’re already working on them?”

“Oh, haha, well, technically, ah, I’d already done one,” she squeaks, fixing her glasses and rumpling her lab coat, “but, um, it still needs a few finishing touches.”

“That’s wonderful!” Happ exclaims and does a twirl of pure joy in mid-air. “Can I see it?”

“Well, it’s in my lab at Hotland-” she cuts herself off with a facepalm.

Happstablook gasps audibly, “ _Hotland_?” and zips around their room excitedly. Hotland is like the L.A. of the Underground. Monster Tinseltown. The only place progressive enough to have electricity. To become a star in a land where TV ads line up in storefront windows, where larger-than-life renditions of love plaster across screens on every cell phone and tablet, where people can’t live without those like Happstablook, would be more than a dream come true to them. They inch closer to Alphys, awaiting an answer.

Alphys’s hands cover her flustered face. “I mean- ah … it’s better if I just ... show you.”

“What, right now?” because Happ is ready to do anything right now, even fly all the way to Hotland. Hotland!

“Well, no.” Alphys collects the blueprints from the fuzzy carpet and zips up her bag. “We’ll have to arrange a trip with the River Person. How about you meet me at their dock tomorrow morning?”

Happ nods vigorously, unable to contain the excitement bubbling in their chest.

“Um, it’s kind of late, I don’t want to waste too much of your time,” Alphys says, heading toward the front door.

Happ sees her off. “I’ll be there as soon as I can! Thank you Alphys darling!” they call as Alphys heads out of Blook Acres, smiling back at them.

~~~

Frisk rubs their chin, musing to themself. They wonder if there are more to these diaries than merely what the flavor text says. They come to the conclusion that they should open one.

“Aha.” Found it. A hidden entry past the few first pages.

It reads,

“ _Dear Diary,_

_Would it be a very good idea if I just … leave them, without saying anything? I mean … Maddie already left us … I’m the only one left for them … Alphys practically said all my dreams would come true if I pursue this career path, but to do so, I would have to leave my family behind. I would also have to do it in secret. Blooky would totally stop me otherwise._

_I’m not sure about this …_ ”

~~~

Yet they did.

With merely a hastened twist of the silver key, Happstablook had left their house for good, carrying only a backpack with them. Time was not on their side as it was 6:30 AM when they woke up, and they had promised to meet Alphys half an hour before. There wasn’t enough time to leave a note or say goodbye to anyone, not even the snails. In their state of hurry, they slammed the door without thinking, zooming as fast they could to their meeting spot. When they arrive, Alphys is sitting on the boat, looking at her watch. “Oh, finally,” she mumbles.

“Sorry, sorry I’m late,” Happ sputters, bowing their head profusely.

Alphys only motions them to get on, a look of slight discomfort on her face.

“Hotland, please,” she says to the hooded River Person, and they set about.

The Underground is weird. You never know what could happen if you follow a sketchy scientist all the way to the other side of the underground just because she promised you a body. That’s the fun of it, after all. What’s life without a little risk?

A hopeful smile lies on the little ghost’s face as they start on their way to the Hotland, the destination of their glitz-and-glam dreams, a sketchy scientist on their side.

*

Frisk is twiddling with the bookshelves in Alphys’s room, many hours later in the peacefulness of the evening, for no particular reason, when they come across something that catches their eye. A consecutive series of three spiral-bound notebooks with red plastic covers, thinner and taller than the rest of the books on the shelf. They pull out the one on the far left. It’s labeled “Do Not Read” and, in smaller text, “that means you alphys >:(”

Intrigued, Frisk opens it straight away, not stopping to think that maybe they aren’t supposed to.

_THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF HAPPSTABLOOK_

“Ohhh boy,” they whisper, very schemingly rubbing their palms. “This is gonna be good.”

~~~

The River Person didn’t expect it when Happstablook gave them a tip. Well, at least, Happ thinks they didn’t. They aren’t very emotive, what with the hood and all. Alphys scrambles to get off the boat while Happ floats right on the dock seamlessly, twirling around to wink at the hooded person, who quickly shies the other way.

Happ fixes their ghost hair and eyes Alphys. “So, where _do_ you live in this place?”

Alphys’s face gets all scrunched and uptight, which seems to happen a lot. “Where do I … live? Uh, j-just here, actually.” She makes an awkward hand and head motion to the left as they exit the dock and Happ almost loses their breath as they turn.

Their mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ shape. “Oh. My. GOD!”

It’s nothing too shocking, just a towering, white, mechanical-looking building. Above the entrance lies the word ‘LAB’ in bold red text. It’s simple, the minimalistic kind of stuff Alphys would go for. But Happ is on a roll with these jolts of adrenaline.

Alphys nervously speed-walks toward the front door and knocks in a catchy rhythm that sounds suspiciously like a song. The door slides open with a whoosh. She looks back, expecting Happ to follow her inside. Instead, she sees Happstablook’s starry-eyed expression and chuckles somewhat skittishly. “Make yourself at home.”

Awestruck, Happ floats inside, taking in every little detail of Alphys’s place their eyes can reach. (“It’s huge!” “Girl, you _live_ like this?” “You can fit a town in here!”)

Alphys can only smile. “Hehe … well, I should probably- um, lemme fix you a place to sleep.” She heads inside another slidey door, out of sight, leaving Happ on their own.

Not used to going around people’s houses in their absence, Happ resorts to sitting on the floor.

Then suddenly, they remember something important. They snatch a red notebook out of their backpack and flip it open, excited to tell dear Diary all about today.

But then … _crap_. Did they really forget to bring a pen? They can’t find anything in their backpack.

It’s okay, though, Alphys _has_ to have one. They’ll wait till she comes back.

…

They can’t wait till she comes back. “Alphys!”

She comes hurrying back out through the slidey door. “Is something wrong? … Yes, there’s one on my desk ... Was that all?” Happ nods. Alphys sighs, trying not to look too demanding. “I’m k-kind of busy right now, call me when something’s really up.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“And … you don’t have to thank me every time.”

“Okay, tha- I mean, cool.” Happ watches as Alphys comes back through the slidey door to do whatever she does. They can tell she’s trying her best to sound nice. They put their book down and hover over to the messy desk, piled with stacks of paper and stained drinking cups, in search of a pen. Carefully pushing a tower of cups to the side, they inspect the stained wooden desk and find … a dirty, beat-up blue ballpoint. Happ goes back to grab their notebook and test their newfound pen, scratching it on the last page.

It doesn’t work. They try again. Nope. Can’t write with this one.

Sighing, they throw both the pen and notebook over their theoretical shoulder and look for other things to do.

After a while, Happ lays down on the ground as a last-ditch attempt to feel something. They’d already “eaten” a dry packet of instant noodles and attempted to consume dog food from a comically large bag. (To their surprise, it didn’t taste very good.) They writhe around, roll over, do headstands and floating flips, waiting for something to happen.

Wait a minute, it’s Hotland ( _Hotland!_ ), there must be something on air right now.

Happ finds a remote on the floor next to the giant screen in Alphys’s living room and presses it. The screen flicks on. It’s a taped episode of _Wheel of Fortune_. Not their favorite, that title goes to _Bosom Buddies_ , but they dig it.

After ten minutes and two ads, the slidey door whooshes open. “Happy, I’m done!”

Instantly assuming she’s talking about their new body, Happ darts straight through Alphys, who freezes.

“Oh my God, sorry, sorry honey,” Happ apologizes, again. “Just really excited. Forgive me.”

“It’s okay,” Alphys grins, “you must really want to see this new bedroom.”

Bedroom? “Oh,” but they’re still smiling anyway. “Can’t wait to see it!”

Alphys beams. “You’re gonna love it.”

~~~

Frisk is caught off-guard when at that very moment they hear their ringtone. Ugh, _just_ as they’re getting into it. They pull the yellow off-Nokia out of their pocket and press it to their ear.

“ _Frisk, where on earth are you?_ ” a bossy voice shouts from the other line, sending shrieking feedback to Frisk’s ear. “ _We’ve been waiting for you outside the tour bus forever!_ ”

A moment passes for them to properly process what the voice shouted, and they respond, “I’ll be there in a sec.”

“ _Be snappy._ ” They can tell the voice was annoyed at their tone. They’re not the best with phone calls. With that, they tuck their sweater into their shorts, stuff the red notebook inside, and carefully escalate down to the lab exit.

It’s not a long way to the dock, and when Frisk gets there, they plop onto the boat without a word to the River Person.

The River Person doesn’t seem to take offense. “Where are we going today?” a hint of wistfulness lingers in their childish sing-song voice.

Thoughts of 80’s workout VHS music bounce in Frisk’s strange little mind. Ignoring the flavor options, they say, “Actually, can you drop me off at the Core? It’s urgent.”

The River Person sets off wordlessly toward Hotland, boat cascading on the water as the little pockets of light from holes in the mountain wall disappear from the little human’s sight.

“Frisk, we were supposed to start going _five_ minutes ago. Where _were_ you?”

A tall robot wearing a shirt with a plagiarized Froggit print stands outside an MTT-brand tour bus - the one with his face on it - scolding Frisk, saying things like “You humans have _no_ manners!”. His friend behind him, the Royal Scientist, is frantically urging him to stop drawing attention.

“Okay, okay,” Frisk shakes off Mettaton’s remarks and climbs up the tour bus, (yes, climbs, because the wheels are half their height,) clutching their stomach. Alphys manages to console Mettaton by talking about fan mail, and he gets on the bus after them, sinking on the leather couch like he owns the place (which, he does).

Frisk looks around, still unable to believe how absolutely freshed out this limo bus is. No matter how hard they try, they cannot recall ever before being on a bus that has air conditioning, bunk beds, multiple sofas _and_ a ginormous TV. Somehow, Alphys managed to get phone chargers and robot chargers built into the couches. They are living like kings here! Dirty old human buses have nothing on this.

Since they’re sleeping here, Frisk had chosen a lower bunk next to a window near the back of the bus as their own. It wouldn’t be any trouble for them to sleep near the back because they don’t get motion sickness (unlike a certain monster kid) and besides, they wouldn’t want to sleep near the driver. In fact, all of the beds are pushed a good distance away from the driver.

Of course, this wasn’t the only reason they picked this bed. When inspecting the bus for the first time, they found something interesting about it. For some reason, the mattress is too small to fit in the bed frame, just small enough to leave a long abysmal slot on the side. It’s shockingly clean and coincidentally the perfect size for storing things - things one might not want others to see, such as, say, a diary one stole.

Frisk hops onto the bed, closes the curtain halfway and unloads the book, quickly ramming it into the slot, smirking as it fits perfectly. Mettaton is looking at a sheet of paper with a frown on his face and doesn’t seem to be noticing them at all. Frisk walks out of their bed all nonchalant and inconspicuous.

Suddenly, they hear a squeak. “Yo, Frisk! You’re back!”

It’s MK, Frisk’s best friend, a yellow monster kid. They’re wearing blue polyester shorts and nothing else, as they have been for a week - they said it makes them look cool; Frisk just thinks it makes them look shirtless. (“That’s the point,” they once said in retaliation.) Also noteworthy that, over the course of the week, after many, many energy drinks, MK finally blurted out to Frisk that they’re non-binary! The two are so much closer now.

“You were gone for so long, I was _so_ tired of waiting for you,” MK says.

“Weren’t you, like, jumping on the ceiling about meeting Undyne just a minute ago?” Frisk points out. That phrase, “jumping on the ceiling”, it doesn’t actually mean anything, Frisk just made it up, but MK gets the point.

“Yeah, but she and my sister have their own room now, and they’re setting it up or something.” MK looks up distractedly like they don’t grasp the obvious concept. “They’re in there all the time …”

Frisk screams internally.

“What’re you smiling for?” MK asks, looking genuinely confused. “Anyway, I was wondering if we can go get some Nice Cream-”

Mettaton slams his piece of paper down suddenly. “NO. We’re leaving in a bit, stay on the bus. Do _not_ leave.”

Frisk puts their hands up in defense. “Alright, alright,” they say, “we’ll … make a card castle or something.”

Mettaton goes back to his sheet, frowning more and more as he scans the lines over and over. At some point, Frisk hears him mutter, “Where can that fucker be …?”

Mettaton’s butt-phone (he has a telephone attached to his butt, long story) has been pressed on his ear for fifteen minutes and counting, each unanswered call earning it a harder slam on the sofa and a more frustrated grumble from Mettaton. The reason Frisk knows this is namely, they counted. They and MK sit on the floor, bored out of their minds. Their card castle has been everything but exciting. Gravity ruins a lot of things, as they’ve discovered.

Until finally, he arrives.

Their driver, Burgerpants. And behind him, a sea snail holding Mettaton’s backup singer Shyren in a fish bowl.

Shyren gracefully floats out of her bowl onto the bus and greets everyone, her agent following suit, while Burgerpants scrambles on after her, sweating, smelling of grease, and profusely apologizing to Mettaton, who has risen from the couch and gazing at him with a lethally critical eye.

“So sorry I’m late, boss, I know what I said, but,” he says, desperation in his voice, “something came up, i-i-it was important and-”

Mettaton stutters in that interrupting manner - you know the one - and brings a finger to Burgerpants’s lips.

“More important … than _my tour_?” he drawls, magenta eyes glowing with mounting irritation. Shyren overlooks this, trying to start conversation with Alphys but failing, as Alphys is nervously rubbing her shirt, watching Mettaton, terrified.

“N-no! No. O-of course not, b-b-boss,” Burgerpants stutters. Frisk watches this exchange like a soap opera.

“Then don’t.” Mettaton retracts his arm with a swift motion. “Act like it. You’re getting paid for this, don’t make me throw you back in the Emporium.”

Burgerpants’s eyes widen with fear at the mere mention. Mettaton must’ve gotten through with his idea to shut off the AC system there.

“I’m letting you off for now,” Mettaton warns, looking anywhere but at Bugerpants’s panicking face. “But while we’re on tour, if you so much as don’t answer my call after the second ring … well, I think we both know what will happen.”

Burgerpants nods at such a rapid speed Frisk wonders why it hasn’t fallen off.

Mettaton calls Alphys over to ask her about the piece of paper. Burgerpants looks around, not knowing what to do. He seems surprised when he spots Frisk and opens his mouth to say something, but Mettaton interrupts before he could say anything, “Kid’s with me, darling, now would you be so kind as to do your job?”

Burgerpants shuts his mouth at once.

“Here’s your schedule.” Mettaton chucks the sheet of paper from before at him. Alphys shoots Mettaton a disapproving look from behind his back.

Burgerpants hurries to the driver’s seat just as the words leave Mettaton’s mouth. Dejected as per usual, he starts up the limo bus using a key from his pocket.

The bus rumbles. Frisk yawns and drags themself back to their bunk, closing the curtains, messing up their neatly tucked blanket in the process. That’s enough drama for today, they think. The windowpane is dark and cold when they drag a finger on it. They straighten the white cotton blanket and pull it over their head. It’s not warm, in fact it feels like the blanket absorbed the cold from outside, but it doesn’t matter - things feel much sneakier when you’ve got something over your head.

They still haven’t checked on the girlfriends yet … maybe tomorrow. Right now, they have something else to do.

Frisk turns the built-in lightbulb on and twists the brightness all the way back so that it’s barely shining, just bright enough to read by. An obligatory peek out the curtain to make sure nobody is paying any attention and, sure enough, Mettaton is sitting motionless on the couch, eyes glowing a cautionary red light, while Alphys is nowhere to be seen. It sounds like she’s rummaging through the kitchen to find his charger. He’s passing out on the sofa tonight. They’ll have to be careful.

After all, Frisk can’t sleep well without a bedtime story, and they didn’t bring along any books or bards when they fell, so this will have to do. The thrill of getting away with something rushes through them as they pull out the book and turn to where it left off last time.

“ _Dear Diary,_

 _She led me to her basement, where she said my new bedroom would be. It’s … not what I had in mind. I imagined someplace less damp. So I asked if I could sleep in her room. She actually blushed a little … And now I have a bed made of books! Things are going great._ ”

~~~

“Comfortable?”

Happ smiles. “Yes.”

“That’s good.” Alphys has taken her lab coat off and Happ cannot understand why anyone would wear a t-shirt with a print of two buff cartoon dudes hugging on it, but here they are.

“So … lunch?” she asks.

Happ practically hops off the bed with excitement. “Yes _please_.”

Alphys comes back with two steaming bowls of noodles and some sticks. She sits down, criss-cross-applesauce, pats on the tile opposite to her, prompting Happ to sit there.

Ghosts can’t eat, precisely, but they can taste things, and Happ _loves_ the taste of food. Funnily enough, they can’t recall Blooky ever tasting anything. Blooky normally gave all their food to the shy girl in the dump. Happ takes in a big whiff of their bowl and dive in, headfirst, chowing down on the noodles and slurping the delicious broth.

Alphys watches them with concern.

“Uh, Happy?”

Happ looks up, licking their lips. “Hm?”

“Why don’t you use the uh, the chopsticks?” Using her own sticks, she motions to the pair next to their bowl.

Happ tips their head to the side quizzingly.

“You use them to pick up food. You know.” Alphys swallows. “Like this.” She does some sort of magic with her claws that cause the sticks to _move_ and pick up the noodles.

Instantly intimidated, Happ resorts to lying. “I … don’t have hands.”

“Why did you need a pen, then?” Alphys retorts, grinning.

 _Shit_. “Well, I don’t know how to use … chapsticks.”

“Well, in that case, you can just drink it,” Alphys concludes and resumes her slurping.

The rest of the afternoon is spent exploring the Hotland, as per Happ’s request. They got as far as maybe five puzzles, Happ thoroughly enjoying all of them, before Alphys checks her watch and urges them to run back to the lab with her. She turns on the AC and practically shoves Happ onto their new bed.

She’s still panting as she says, “We ... better, uh, get some sleep for now.”

Happ snuggles under the blanket, eyelids drooping. “Okay, Alphy.” They forget how tired they are after the boat trip (which felt like hours to them). Alphys presses something on the wall and all the lights in the lab go dark.

Nap wonders to themself while drifting to the land of dreams. Despite her use of “we”, Alphys apparently meant _them_ , because _she_ didn’t go to sleep. Happ could hear her trying to quietly sneak downstairs. As much as they wanted to follow, their sleepiness gets the better of them and they pass out before getting a chance to investigate.

The next morning, Happ finds her on her bed where she wasn’t before, snoring.


	2. Napstablook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk has a little conversation with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is p short, this is bc the last chapter was long af and not at all bc I'm lazy

Late into the night, the bus feels like it’s on water. Frisk doesn’t put it past Mettaton to own a floating bus. As it turns out, the bedtime story thing went too well, as now Frisk’s head is whirring with imagination, they can’t even close their eyes. They pull yet another book from the abyss out of sheer curiosity and are quite appalled to see what’s on the first page.

Nothing. No dramatic title or poorly-drawn robots.

Have they got this the wrong way around?

They turn to the last page ... nothing either.

This is troubling, to say the least. They do a quick flip-through of the book and land on a random page with notes in completely different handwriting - more scribbly and tightly knit. Frisk can’t for the life of them decipher what it says, despite squinting, flipping it around and holding it centimeters away from their face, which, you know, works every time. They turn a few more pages to try to find more, and have to force their mouth shut as they hear movements from outside.

It’s still dark, and the bus hasn’t stopped, so it can’t be _outside_ outside. A few moments later, they hear a door close. Humming of a song - they can’t tell which. The clinking of a bowl on the glass table. The pouring of Cheerios. The splatter of milk. The chewing of cereal. It couldn’t be MK, _they’re_ snoring their ass off above them, Shyren is still in her bowl in the bathroom along with her agent, who’s in the bathtub, Alphys and Undyne are probably too fond of each other to move and disturb the other when they sleep, Mettaton would have had to power up, and Burgerpants is driving. That leaves one.

Frisk pulls the curtains to one side and crawls out of their bunk. The cold air hits them as soon as they leave and they give a weird involuntary jump. They hear the spoon clatter on the glass table.

“Chill, it’s just me,” they whisper to the pale ghost in front of them and take a seat on the chair opposite.

Napstablook lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes. “it’s just you.” Their headphones are still absent from the events of last week.

Frisk chuckles. “How’s it been, Bloo? I didn’t see you today.”

Bloo takes a spoonful of cereal into their mouth. “oh ... you didn’t? my bad. i was with doctor alphys … we were discussing the tour.”

Frisk picks out a single soaked Cheerio from their bowl and chews it in the quiet rumble of the bus. “Like what?”

Bloo eyes them and turns back to their bowl.

“... she asked me if i really wanted to go.”

“And?”

“i said yes.”

“Mhm?”

“i don’t think that was the right answer.”

“Yeah,” Frisk says, not really listening, paying more attention to the brightening sky. “Hey, isn’t it weird how day and night exist down here? Like, how does that work?”

Bloo shrugs. “dunno, you should ask my cousin brother, he knows everything.”

Frisk snorts. Yeah right.

Wait,

 _No_.

They grab the nearest clock, the digital clock on the kitchen counter, and blink at it unbelievingly.

 _5:59?!_ Did they stay up _all night?_

Several non-family-friendly words run through their head. They try to think back to the meeting with Alphys before the tour as fast as possible to remember if they have to do anything today, scratching their head and pulling at their hair-

Frisk jumps three feet in the air when the alarm goes off and drops it. Luckily, it doesn’t break, but they let out quite a loud yelp when it happened. Bloo looks quite unfazed.

“you okay?”

“NO!” Frisk whisper-shouts, sprinting back to their bunk.

“alright.”


	3. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang goes to a cafe. Frisk and MK wander off to Undyne's old house and have some good fun.

MK is snoring noisily above Frisk as they hurriedly shove the notebooks back into the abyss. The window is still unpleasantly cold despite the light shining through it. The alarm did not wake anyone else up, apparently - nothing can be heard from Alphys and Undyne’s room and Mettaton’s eye is still glowing on the couch, though now the glow is green.

Then, they hear it: a _snick_ and a long whirr, as though a CD is being read, then, a clean, satisfying _ching_. Mettaton has booted. And, on command, he sits right up, smiling, ready to go.

“Ah! Fabulous day today, isn’t it!” he says, looking at Frisk.

Frisk hangs their head backward, exasperated, and doesn’t answer. MK leans their head over the edge of their bed to look down at Frisk, looking well awake. Oh, to be in their position right now. Frisk lets out a groggy morning groan.

MK averts their grinning attention to Mettaton, who also had plenty of beauty sleep (this is killing Frisk) and Mettaton automatically drops his robotic smile.

“Who let the kid on?” he mutters. “Whatever. Allll …” he stretches his tube-arms, hitting them on the ceiling in the process, “ _right!_ Alphys! My joints are creaking! ALPHYS!”

There’s a startled yelp from the bedroom and a few annoyed grunts muffled by the wall. A moment later, Alphys pokes her head out of the door, takes one look at Mettaton and hangs her head, groaning lazily.

“Nooo ...” she slurs, “Mettaton, you were supposed to wake up an hour later.”

Mettaton shrugs. “Well, I’m up now.”

From inside comes a soft voice, saying, “Baaabe, come baaack ...”

Frisk almost successfully passes out on the ground, but Alphys turns the light on and says, “Well, if you’re up now, we might as well get breakfast together. What do you say, hun?” she looks back, awaiting Undyne’s answer.

“I wanna sleeeep ...”

Frisk irritably blocks out the light with their sweater arm, which is still chilly. If they weren’t craving sleep just as much right now, they would’ve wondered which side of the bed Alphys sleeps on.

“um ... i already had breakfast,” says Napstablook.

Mettaton stands up and cracks his neck rolling it. “Well, Blooky, you can tag along, we might be able to get some Nice Cream.”

‘Blooky’ smiles at that - a cute timid grin.

Turning around from his seat, Burgerpants chimes in, “Hey, can I join?” sounding unreasonably cheerful for someone with growing dark circles under his eyes.

“No,” says Mettaton.

“Come on, Happy -” Alphys rubs her eyes - “it wouldn’t kill an-an-anyone,” she says, trying to hold back a yawn, “to let him come with.”

“Ooh …” Frisk murmurs, arm over their face still, picturing Mettaton with his hands akimbo, lips pursed at Alphys, ready to expose the life out of Burgerpants.

And he does. He clears his throat and starts, “In case you forgot, Alphys, Greasypants here was the one who- who let _him_ through security at my Mettaton EX reveal at the Core. If he wasn’t-”

“Alright, alright … I got it,” Alphys raises her arms defensively, too drowsy for this. Burgerpants drives on miserably forward. “Still. You don’t still believe it was his fault Flow- _he_ got in, do you?”

Mettaton is silent.

“I mean, it’s not like Kevin was at the front door, he was guarding backstage.”

“Wait. _Kevin_?” Frisk speaks for the first time all morning.

“That’s me,” Burgerpants says.

“No,” Frisk starts to grin, “no _way_ ,” before springing into a spiral of unstoppable cackling, partly because of their sleep deprivation eating away at them, and partly because it’s so fucking funny.

“I know.” Mettaton grins, ignoring Alphys’s irritated expression. “So, breakfast?”

“Rude,” mutters the waiter as Frisk gobbles everything up before he gets the chance to put the tray on the table. Frisk doesn’t care. They cannot tell what is real anymore, they only know food. After all, they’re in a cafe at six in the morning. Nothing’s real.

Mettaton looks at the waiter and back at Frisk.

“Frisk, can you not? We’re in public.”

Their cheeks are full and they struggle to chew. They stare at Mettaton maniacally and wordlessly continue chewing.

Mettaton closes his eyes. He sighs, “Fine, do whatever y’want.”

Frisk, chowing down on as many cinnamon buns as they can, is sitting in a booth with everyone except MK, who is on one of the tall chairs next to the counter by herself, (she’s wearing her pink socks, which means she’s feeling more like a girl today) waiting for her breakfast, bouncing hungrily. Mettaton has put on a gray oversized hoodie dress as a disguise. He’s also, despite how much he didn’t want to, ditch the boots and put on Alphy’s too-small sneakers instead. Burgerpants is nowhere to be found.

Shyren tuts excitedly and starts to mumble. Her agent translates it to, “Ah, aren’t you just thrilled for the show tonight? I’ve never been to this venue. I can barely wait!”

“I know, right?” Undyne chews on a cinnamon bun. “I didn’t even know that was a _place_!”

“Me neither,” Mettaton says, “I only found out when the River Person told me.”

Undyne swallows. “Who?”

Mettaton opens his mouth but Alphys answers for him. “You know, that hooded sailor who says ominous things.”

Frisk takes a big slurp of their grapefruit juice to ease the cinnamon. “They have a dog boat.”

“You’re familiar with the venue, right Blooky?”

“huh?” Napstablook wakes up from the trance they’ve been under since they arrived at the cafe. “oh, yeah. i think i’ve been there once or twice.”

Suddenly, MK runs to the booth, holding a plate of pancakes in her mouth. Cheers erupt from the table, Undyne yells “Pancakes!” and Alphys screeches “Strawberry syrup!” and asks if anyone got the reference.

Frisk got the reference. It’s from chapter 2 of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie (1, of course, she hates the sequel), where Mew Mew and her friends go to a pancake house to as a plan to “bump into” her crush, which turns into a stinking disaster as when Mew Mew approaches her crush, she got so flustered that she suddenly stuck her hand into strawberry syrup. It’s a wildly specific reference to make, but Frisk doesn’t put it past Alphys.

Anyway, Frisk is already stuffed and if they had any more sugar, they would probably barf, so they excuse themself to go play outside.

“Finally,” Mettaton mutters indistinctly.

MK says, pancake in mouth, “Yo, wait fow me, I’ll come wiff you!”

Frisk and MK run out of the cafe in search of something to play with. Frisk had put all the red notebooks in MK's cinch bag under their dirty shorts and action figures for safekeeping, and they carry it everywhere now. After a while of wandering, the kids end up at a crossroads between a bird and Undyne’s house. They decide on the latter.

Frisk turns to MK as they reach the entrance. “You know what to do.”

MK smiles mischievously, pulls out a bobby pin from her pocket and sticks it in the keyhole, twisting and turning a few times until magically, the door creaks open. MK said she got the pin from Alphys, neither of the kids can explain the nature of it, it just works that way.

They share a Look and enter the house, unsupervised. Everything inside is still black and sooty from the blind date. Frisk sniffs the air. It’s burnt, with nostalgia. They smile, remembering the scorch of that golden flower tea. They still can’t taste anything normally, it’s all painful now. MK hasn’t been here ever, they think, she’s running around and jumping excitedly like a total goof.

Now that the house is burnt, the music doesn’t work quite properly anymore, either. They know MK probably couldn’t hear it, but it’s all … distorted.

Hold on a minute. The house is abandoned, so if Frisk were to, say, go into Undyne’s room, technically … nothing’s stopping them.

“MK, toss me the pin.”

Alphys checks her watch, rumpling up her shirt in the booth. “It’s been ten minutes,” she says, looking anxiously at Mettaton and Napstablook and Undyne, who all seem just as worried. “Where could they be?”

“WOOHOO!” MK hollers, vigorously bouncing on Undyne’s bed.

“I can’t believe it,” Frisk exclaims, inspecting a wall of baseball caps next to a corkboard of pictures of anime girls. “Even after the fire, this room is still untouched?!”

“WHO … CARES?” MK shouts between bounces. “THIS … IS … A-MA-ZING!!”

Frisk messes with the drawer beside the bed. There’s a magical spear repair kit inside it. Of course. They move on to the dresser, which has an excellent Big Mouth Billy Bass on it, by the way. In it, pens and fish food and, upon peeling off a layer of dirty clothes, a notebook!

Frisk gasps and yanks the book out of the drawer, opening it at once. MK angles herself so she bounces off course and onto the carpeted ground.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Oh my god,” Frisk says, giggling with shock, “this must be Undyne’s diary.”

“Ooh! Diary? What does it say?”

Frisk does a flip-through of the book. Most of it is blank, save for a few random pages with poorly-drawn sketches of anime characters. Only one page has any writing - it’s scribbly and smudged.

“ _June 12_

 _Alphys gave me her sketchbook, as a present, she said. She’s too sweet!! My birthday isn’t until the 18th but I thanked her anyway. One of the pages is a drawing of me! Aw Alphy, you shouldn’t have!_ ”

Frisk squeals with delight at the cuteness of this single passage. MK turns to them with a quizzing stare.

They stare back. “What? It’s cute.” But MK still doesn’t seem to get it.

Frisk snickers and shakes their head. All of a sudden, they both jump, Frisk slamming the book shut as they hear the front door creak. Frisk slowly signals MK to keep quiet and, as quiet as they can, peaks out the unclosed door. In the middle of the kitchen, looking about the coal-black house, only the slightest bit concerned, is Napstablook.

They let out a sigh of absolute relief.

Nap spots them spying behind the door and says, “hey … my brother told me to tell you guys to … um … ‘get the fuck back here’. his words. so ...”

“Right,” Frisk says, “we’ll be out in a sec.”

They turn back around to MK. “Whew, it’s just Naps. Does your bobby pin work backwards?”

“What,” MK says, “what does that mean?”

“Can it lock doors too?”

“Oh, yeah, I think … Wait …”

Frisk chuckles as they watch MK's face, slowly realizing.

MK smiles. “Doors can lock themselves! Stop messing with me.”

“Oh, you’re back,” Mettaton says, enlightened as his cousin phases straight through the door. Napstablook floats with their back hunched, glassy eyes on the ground as per usual. Frisk and MK bonk their heads on the glass door, and follow in after Blooky. The plates on their table have been completely cleared save for traces of strawberry syrup and golden brown scraps of pancake. Mettaton rolls his eyes as MK whines about not getting to eat any.

“Phew!” Alphys sighs, relieved. “I was a” - she paused - “heh, I was afraid you were in trouble.”

“i’m fine,” says Nap.

“Oh.” From the look on her face, she has just noticed them. “I meant the kids.”

Nap quickly (and embarrassedly, not knowing why they ever thought saying anything was a good idea) diverts their attention to their cousin. “so, what are we doing now, mettaton?”

“I’m glad you asked, Blooky” - Mettaton lowers his head and his voice - “but, to tell you, we’ll have to get out of earshot. Who knows, one of these people could potentially be, you know, a _follower_ of mine,” he says, lowkey nodding at the other monsters in the cafe, pulling on his hoodie string.

“Well, let’s go, everyone,” says Alphys somewhat urgently.

Frisk sees Shyren smile a little. She can’t wait to get out of the public eye either, it seems. Now that they think about it, Shyren and Bloo have a lot in common. They’re both shy, quiet, physics-defying monsters. They should be friends.

Long after the group leaves, a pair of nosy heads perk up from the newspapers they’d been hiding behind from the back of the cafe.

“Like, where’d you think they’re going?” one asks.

The other hides her smirk with the headline. “I might have an idea.”

Her friend sighs, wiping her coffee mustache. “I swear to God, Bratty. This better be worth waking up early for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how's that for a cliffhanger? (jk im posting all of these in one day god help me)


	4. Dinner at Tem Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first dinner at Tem Hotel doesn't go as well as Mettaton expects.

They make their next stop three hours after eating lunch on the bus. Alphys calls for her sibling (MK got dizzy halfway through her chess game with Undyne and retreated to her bed) who, as soon as she gets off the bus, throws up.

Mettaton ignores this.

He approaches a local, a short ditzy-looking cat-dog in a blue hoodie, for directions.

“hOI!!! welcom to … tem village!!” it greets.

“That’s alright, darling,” Mettaton bends down. “Now, where is this …” he pauses, swirling his hand, trying to remember, “Tem Hotel?”

The local looks exaggeratedly confused. “tem hotel???? tem don’t knows! yu shud ask my friend … temmie!!”

“Okay. This isn’t going to work.” He stands back up again. “That’s fine!” he quickly corrects. “We can find it ourselves.”

After going two full laps around the village, during which Frisk and MK had begun and finished four games of Hide-and-Seek, Undyne stumbled across a hole in the wall near the Statue of Tem.

“Hey, guys, I found a thing!” she calls out loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Alphys springs out of Tem Shop along with Shyren and her agent, the Blooks look over from their conversation with a mushroom, Frisk perks out from the bush they and MK were hiding in (seems they couldn’t decide who to go seek), brushing some leaves and twigs off of their sweater - and they all make a beeline for Undyne.

Inside the hole is a temmie, derped-faced and smiling like everyone else in this cursed village, but it isn’t clad in blue like the others. Its sweater is green with one yellow stripe.

Frisk can’t help but feel a fragment of familiarity around this temmie. Somehow, looking at its derpy face, the back of their brain briefly fogs up with memories of long-lost family.

* Feeling of being watched, says the flavor text.

They check again, and the flavor text stays the same, until they pull out a temmie flake - a colorful piece of “edible” cardboard - and hold it out to the temmie. It doesn’t scream in excitement, only takes the flake into its mouth and disappears into the darkness.

Undyne watches at this exchange in utter confusion. Everyone else seems to find this perfectly normal.

A minute later, the temmie comes back, inquiring in perfect English, “Names?”

“Shyren, Napstablook, and,” Mettaton puts his hand on his chest proudly, “yours truly … The rest are with me,” he adds, as an afterthought.

“Nobodies, I suppose.” It keeps its eyes on the clipboard on its paws, completely ignoring Mettaton’s reaction of utter shock and offense. “I’ve only heard of the blue lady.” The temmie grins at Shyren. Not even Undyne. The little shit.

Shyren hides her face in what seems like coyness and mumbles, as her agent translates it, ”They’re with me.”

Mettaton frowns.

“Well, in that case,” the temmie squeezes itself out of the crack and says, most politely, “after you.”

Undyne gapes at the tiny creature. “You want _us_ … to go in there … through _that_?”

Alphys looks unsure, to put it mildly, but she says, “Come on, Undyne, I’m sure it’s perfectly safe.”

“Have you at least _checked_ it?”

Mettaton grins. “No, but your girlfriend has.”

Frisk can barely hide their own shit-eating grin as Alphys turns the most embarrassing shade of red. She and Undyne are in that phase where they’re three weeks into dating but she’s still flustered whenever anyone brings it up. Frisk turns to MK, who is rather infuriatingly not paying attention, but fixing her pink kneesocks. Ugh, they swear, it’s almost like she doesn’t even _want_ to understand.

“Sooo,” Alphys starts, admiring the interior design of the Tem Hotel lobby, ”when is Kevin coming?”

Mettaton is elegantly but so casually hunched over the wooden reception desk, setting his chin atop his intertwined fingers and trying to talk to the stammering temmie behind the desk. He shrugs at Alphys’s question.

Alphys frowns. She opens her mouth but closes it again, thinking better of it.

As for the kids, they’re stuck. MK cut in front of Frisk just before they popped out of the tunnel, so now they’re glued together at the exit. Shyren hears their grunts and complaints from her sofa and tells her agent to come help. Her agent crawls toward the kids, he holds Frisk very tightly by the ribs and - three, two, one - pulls them out. They let out a yelp of pain as their right arm scratches on the rocky wall.

Mr. Agent drops them and Frisk hops on tiptoe, breathing sharply through their teeth, clutching their wound.

“Hold your arm out,” he says. Frisk stares at him, face scrunching in pain. He inclines his head, repeating his request. Hesitantly, they obey. To their shock, he spits a ball of slime onto their arm. They almost scream, but he shushes them.

“You have to wait a bit,” he says.

Magically, as his spit solidifies, Frisk’s arm doesn’t sting as much anymore. They peel it off like wax and it’s as if they never scratched anything.

“Whoa!” MK exclaims.

Frisk looks at the agent in awe. “How did you do that?”

“All monsters have healing spit,” he explains. “Only, most choose not to use it. It is rather repulsive.”

MK frowns in amusement. She looks left and right schemingly as if thinking something over, and Frisk knows exactly what it is.

“Thank you, Mr. Agent,” Frisk says, “we’ll be using this information for _good_.” They insinuate the last word as a reminder for MK. The kids share a wicked look, before Frisk reminds themself to be respectful. “Can I call you Mister?”

He smiles. “Call me whatever you want.”

Meanwhile, Alphys gives a piece of paper to Mettaton, which he gives the temmie behind the reception desk, and in turn, gets their keys. “Alright, everyone! Time to assign rooms,” Alphys calls.

One by one, Shyren, Mr. Agent, Frisk and MK gather around in front of Alphys and Mettaton. They’ve booked four rooms: one for Mettaton, one for Shyren, one for Alphys and Undyne, and-

“Whoa whoa whoa wait, shouldn’t Blooky get their own room?”

“We’ve discussed this, Mettaton,” Alphys says. “Shyren and Undyne can’t share a room because they both sleep in the bath, so either you share a room with Napstablook or they go with everyone else.”

“Everyone else?” Frisk says indignantly, tilting up their nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That _means_ ,” Mettaton bends over to come eye to eye with puny little Frisk. He says Frisk, “the kid”, Lochi (who Frisk assumes is Mr. Agent) and Blooky go in one room, and they get their own.

“And what about Burgerpants?” Frisk asks, in such an accusatory tone they themself can’t tell if it’s lighthearted.

“He’ll figure things out once he comes back with our luggage,” Mettaton replies, again, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now -” he claps suddenly “- let’s get going.”

The kids, the girlfriends, Mr. Agent and the stars of the show follow a temmie up an elevator, a lavish, fancy elevator, to the third floor. The temmie leads them to a hallway with three tiny consecutive doors labeled “fiv”, “seben” and “ate”, respectively. The temmie smiles and sticks its tongue out.

“welp! habba gud stay!” it says. And with that, it trots along, its face trailing behind.

“Well,” Undyne points at the tiny doors lined up with their room numbers on them, “problem two: that.”

Mettaton glares at her but doesn’t respond. He instead turns to Alphys, who shrugs. “It’s just like before,” she says, “ we should- we should be able to go through … i-if we just-”

MK yanks open the door at once. Wriggling her head through, she pops inside, ignoring Alphys’s multiple warnings. Frisk follows, of course.

“Careful!” says Alphys.

“Isn’t that my room?” Mettaton says under his breath.

“ _YO! This is sooo cool!_ ” MK shrieks from inside.

“ _Decked the heck out_!” says Frisk.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Undyne crouches down to pull both kids out by the ankle. “Get to your own room, punks.”

Once she’s gotten herself used to the sight of room seben, Undyne sits down on the bed next to her girlfriend.“Wow, Alphy, you really outdid yourself this time,” she says, patting Alphys on the back. Alphys giggles shyly.

“You really did,” Mettaton says to himself, satisfied, licking the liquor off his lips from room ate.

Meanwhile, Frisk can’t believe how unfair the room arrangements are. Room fiv is exceptionally worse than the other two, no cockroaches, but Frisk can see a weird-smelling wet patch on the carpet, and the walls have cracks in them. They check the beds.

* Smells weird, says the flavor text.

Well, that doesn’t help at all.

Frisk wonders where they should sleep, not like there are a lot of good options. Meanwhile, Mr. Agent is rummaging in the bathroom. Shyren’s face lights up as he pops out with a fishbowl.

“For you, in case the other room doesn’t have one,” he says, filling up the bowl with tap water. “I can sleep in the bathtub.”

“i’ll have the ground,” says Napstablook.

“I’ll have the bed!” MK says, jumping on one of them.

* Well that was easy, the flavor text comments.

Frisk shrugs. “Burgerpants can have the other one, I’ll have the Murphy bed.”

“What? Why?” MK asks.

Frisk sighs, shoulders drooping. “He’s a minimum wage worker, MK, have some sympathy.”

“What’s a minimum wage?”

Frisk sighs again before quickly stopping, realizing how Mettaton that is. “Nothing.”

At around 5:30, before dinner, Frisk finds Bloo near the hotel, talking to someone. Frisk is startled, but in a good way, to see a familiar existential face.

“Mushroom dance,

Mushroom dance,

Whatever could it mean?”

Frisk elbows them. “You two know each other?”

Bloo nods.

“Can’t say I’m surprised. Me and MK are going to the gift shop, wanna come?”

“okay,” Bloo says, eyes still on the mushroom.

The kids and Bloo exit the Tem Hotel Shop with some snacks. Napstablook tests out their new earbuds.

“Why don’t those have wires?” asks MK, looking at Bloo’s earbuds.

“They’re AirPods, MK,” Frisk explains.

“No they’re not, they’re TemPods! It says on the box,” MK retaliates.

Frisk chuckles. “If you say so.”

Once everyone has changed (Mettaton, mostly), the gang enters the Tem Hotel Restaurant on the top floor for dinner, which is … surprisingly fancy. It’s complete with napkins, iced drinks on every seat, _and_ a chandelier. Each table is decked with white tablecloths and each chair has a silk white ribbon behind it. Even the windows are fancy, with echo flower pots on every sill.

“Ah,” says Mettaton, taking a look around. “This is my kind of place.”

Frisk’s face scrunches up at the sheer fanciness of this place. “Not mine,” they reply in a murmur.

A temmie waiter approaches them. “Do you have a reservation?”

Mettaton jerks his head back a bit in surprise (and, if Frisk is reading this correctly, a tad of offense?).

“Yes.” Alphys toys with the seam of her polka dot dress. “I m-made one earlier this year. Table for eight?”

“Right,” says the temmie, checking its piece of paper. It turns behind and calls two other waiter temmies over. “Ahem, two tables of four, please.”

The waiter temmies nod and show them to their tables. Bouncing, they carefully push two tables of fours together. Mettaton gracefully takes the seat closest to the window, once they’re done. Napstablook floats next to him, along with Shyren and Mr. Agent. Frisk and MK sit next to each other. Alphys joins in too. Undyne reluctantly follows.

The waiter temmies hand everyone a leather-bound menu.

“I hope they have sushi,” Alphys mutters. Frisk chuckles at Undyne’s bewildered expression. MK hides their smile behind the menu. (They’d changed into yellow socks, so it’s neutral now.)

Alphys looks at the giggling children, puzzled. “What?”

Frisk replies with a shake of their head. Alphys shrugs and continues browsing the menu.

\--

Bratty clicks her tongue, pulling her friend into the backseat. “Come on, quick! We’re already late! Ugh, why did you have to be seasick, Catty?”

“I can’t help it, all cats get seasick!” Catty responds.

Bratty turns around as Catty tumbles into the backseat. “Temmie Village,” she says.

The River Person behind the wheel is frankly terrified. “I-I don’t know where that is.” They only agreed to drive because the girl had a gun.

“It’s in Waterfall, and quick, Catty’s only a bit less carsick than she is seasick. Come on!”

The RIver Person turns the key and zooms toward Waterfall.

Nearing the lantern room, they stop. “I can only go this far.”

“Ugh, that’s good enough,” says Bratty, dusting herself off and fixing her hair. “Pay ‘em, Catty.”

Catty hands the River Person sixty Gold and gets out of the car, careful as to keep her stomach full.

“What now?” she says.

“Now? We find that burger boy.”

\--

“Mm, I think I might’ve underestimated these temmies,” Mettaton says, enjoying his drink well into the evening. Shyren and Undyne are giggling about something. Alphys is munching through her third order of sushi. And the restaurant appears completely deserted except for them. “This is possibly the best champagne I’ve had.”

Frisk sucks on their carton of apple juice (stylized as “appol juce”) and, out of the blue, raises the question at Mettaton, “How can you drink?”

Mettaton’s face drops. He sighs, devoid of all interest to talk to Frisk.

“I mean … aren’t you a robot?”

“Oh boy,” Undyne murmurs, trying to keep her gaze on Shyren.

“Quite … obviously,” Mettaton says slowly as he takes another sip. Alphys notices the slight tension and glares wide-eyed at Frisk to stop talking, but Frisk doesn’t get the message.

“Robots … can’t …” Frisk struggles with their words, “drink, can they? Like, there’s electrical stuff down there, right?”

There is … a long silence. Undyne slowly takes a bite of sushi from her girlfriend’s plate. Mr. Agent helps Shyren wipe her mouth with a tissue. MK hangs their head, very quickly diverting their attention from Frisk to Mettaton and back to Frisk. Alphys awkwardly scratches the back of her neck, looking at Mettaton, but he’s got his eyes dead set on Frisk.

Frisk crosses their arms in confusion, flapping their fingers like crazy. “What, am I- am I being rude?” they mutter, suddenly realizing they were.

“Yes,” Mettaton hisses, louder than he normally does.

Undyne shoots up. “Heeey!” she says, louder than Mettaton, putting on a fake cheerful face. “Maybe you should run along, Frisk, you’re done eating, right?” - she turns to MK, who was about to sneak off to the bathroom - “MK, why don’t you go with them?” Undyne pats them on the back. “ _Go on now,_ ” she adds, teeth clenched.

Frisk hasn’t eaten a thing. They don’t like seafood. And as much as it throws them off without dinner, they had no choice but to listen to Undyne. As the kids exit the restaurant to return to their room, Frisk can’t help but notice two cats and an alligator who seem to want to be let in. MK asks if they want to go play, Frisk says they’re going to their room to rest.

Then the guilt begins to set in.


	5. Night-time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne comforts Frisk, and late at night they begin having ideas.

After that absolute shitshow of a dinner, Mettaton only has a few hours to spare before the show. Still, he wonders what to do to pass the time then, since their first dinner at a fancy restaurant has been so utterly disappointing. _Oh, how do you drink, Mettaton, I thought you were a robot?_ he says, mocking Frisk in his head. _A clean, dry, unintoxicated robot?_ Can’t you just _stop_?

Mettaton scoffs. _He says, fabulously twirling another glass of cognac_ , inside-Mettaton narrates, doing exactly so.

Honestly, it’s a victory on his part. He stayed sober for so long that it comes as a surprise when he finally does drink.

No, no, optimism isn’t a good look on him. Never will be for someone like him.

Mettaton’s mind wanders a hazy sea of reminders as he mindlessly twists the glass in the quiet of his hotel room. He blinks once, takes another sip and suddenly an hour has passed. Then his thoughts begin drifting back to what happened that horrible day, and Alphys is nowhere near to snap him out of it.

It’s such a waste. What should only be a drink, a nice pastime, a hobby to make you look more sophisticated, had somehow become another reminder of the time he’s sure he’s left behind him. He hasn’t felt this clueless for quite a long time. His glass slips slightly, his eyelids feel heavy and his mind starts to drift asleep.

But a knock on the door keeps him awake.

It takes Mettaton about a minute to get up from the soft comfortable bed and make his way toward the doorknob.

When he opens the door, a temmie greets him, cheerful as usual. “room sewwice!” it says, wheeling a trolley of bottles into the room. “hewe’s that conyac u owdewed! the dinosor lady said no alcohol, so tem did” - _wink_ \- “jus that!”

Mettaton hesitantly thanks the temmie and sees it off. It sticks its tongue out. He sticks his tongue out as well.

The door slams shut. Mettaton examines the bottles.

Great. More reminders.

Shyren hums a tune. “Lochi, have you seen my cooler anywhere?” she calls out from the bathroom. MK gasps, as they had never heard Shyren speak any louder than a decibel below a whisper before.

Mr. Agent replies with, “What do you need it for? We’re in Waterfall.”

“Who’s Locky?” MK asks.

“Lo-chi,” Mr. Agent corrects, saying the exact same thing MK did. “And that would be Mr. Agent to you.”

“I dunno,” Shyren says, regarding her agent’s question, “it’s just kind of … muggy in here.”

Ah, yes. That would be the heat from Frisk’s nerves. Despite (or maybe because of) their repeated telling themself not to think about what happened at dinner, they’re still thinking about what happened at dinner. Normally, when they’re distressed, Frisk would pull a blanket over their head and escape to their happy place, but this hotel - especially this room - offers the _worst_ , most fuzzy, uncomfortable blankets Frisk has ever seen.

MK jumps on their bed. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’ much, just chillin’, killin’,” Frisk says. MK chuckles. That was the quote from the one skeleton meme they both love referencing. Frisk lets out a small sigh. They wish it were true.

Despite everything, Frisk watched Mettaton’s show at Tem Village tonight. They _had_ to. It would’ve been too much of a ‘statement’ if they didn’t, and it was … interesting, to them, at least. Mettaton cascaded on a poorly crafted stage with colorful flashing lights, did his thing and got flakes thrown at him (the equivalent of flowers?). At the meet-and-greet, he signed a temmie’s forehead. Bob the temmie asked if he knew how to get out of this godforsaken place. He didn’t. He was only there for the flakes.

Mettaton was ecstatic onstage, as always. Maybe his larger-than-life persona was too thick, too well-crafted from years of experience, for Frisk to notice the dejection in his eyes, the half-sober slur in his words.

Much later, Undyne makes a visit to room fiv to call Frisk outside for a chat.

MK follows their friend out to the door but Undyne closes it in their face. She goes down on one knee to level with the human child. Frisk gulps, mumbling, “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Undyne says, and they breathe a huge sigh of relief, pent-up anxiety flowing out like clockwork; Undyne raises a finger - “ _but_ ” - and the feeling of terror takes over them again.

“What you did back there was really uncool,” she says. They hang their head guiltily. “You don’t” - she waves her hand around, looking for the right words - “ask people if they’re robots or not. You made it really awkward.”

Right, they _get_ it. No need to rub it in their face. The lump in their throat is painful enough as is.

Undyne swipes her thumb over their wet cheek. Her voice softens, “S’alright, Frisk” - she never calls them by name - “it’s best if you go settle things with him yourself. The restaurant is still open, wanna grab something?”

Hazily, Frisk shakes their head. They don’t want to go back there.

“Alright then. Nice Cream?”

They glance up at Undyne uncertainly. Instead of smiling back, they fall into her, clutching the back of her tank top, hoping and praying she takes it as somewhat of a ‘yes’ and perhaps even a ‘forgive me’.

Undyne hugs back without a moment’s hesitation, and Frisk thinks they’re going to be okay.

The air is cold and breezy, as always in Waterfall, as Frisk lets their rainbow shaved ice melt on their tongue. Undyne enjoys her flake pop alongside them on a late-night stroll around Tem Village. They keep quiet for the most part.

It makes them jump a little when Undyne breaks the serene silence. “You sure you don’t want a proper dinner?”

“No,” they answer. “I can’t have anything after dessert.”

Undyne chuckles. “Did your parents tell you that?”

Frisk flinches at the mention of their parents. They shake their head uncomfortably, and figure maybe they should change the topic. “No, I actually _can’t_ eat anything after dessert. It doesn’t work like that.”

Undyne nods. “Alright, then. Do you at least want another ice cream?”

“No. Let’s sit over here,” Frisk says, settling down aside the Statue of Tem.

Undyne sits next to them, and they talk. They get along well, the two of them, ever since that unfortunate date at her house. They talk about Nice Cream, sushi, Alphys, and at some point Mew Mew Kissy Cutie’s gay season 2 arc. Somehow, after Undyne let loose her rather strong opinions on a Mew Mew getting a boyfriend at the end, a story of Mettaton comes up.

Undyne scoffs playfully. “Oh man, that guy. If you told me I’d be going on tour with him a month ago, I woulda thought you were crazy!” she says. “I mean, he’s cool and all, but, he needs to chill.”

Frisk snorts and falls into a spiral of hiccupping giggles. Undyne laughs along. From their room, MK catches a glimpse of their hero bonding with their best friend through the window and huffs a breath of jealousy.

That night, Frisk didn’t read the diaries. It would just feel like they were feeding Mettaton’s ego further, and you heard Undyne: that guy needs to _chill_.

*

It’s the dead of night and Frisk’s mind keeps drifting back to what happened earlier tonight. They try counting their heartbeat to distract themself, but they can’t stop thinking about it. It’s going to eat them up inside eventually how, as mean as Mettaton can get, he has a good reason to be pissed at them, and Undyne doesn't even begin to understand that - and that made the pit in their stomach even more unbearable. They got some sleep, not a lot, maybe just fifteen minutes of it. After a few naps, they glance at the bedside clock and sigh. 12:41 AM. It was 10:09 PM before. They slept through 11:11. At least that’s something. They hope they made a wish in their dream.

They cover themself with the blanket and push it away again, it’s so damn scratchy. This Murphy bed’s mattress so hard it’s barely a mattress. MK is snoring their ass off next to Frisk and that should be comforting like it always is, but it’s not. The knocking on the door doesn’t help either.

They let out a sigh. Seems Undyne’s words can only do so much.

They roll over to grab MK’s cinch bag.

…

They can’t. They can’t read the diary. Not after tonight. The bag hits the floor with a miserable thump. They begin finding difficulty in keeping their eyes dry.

Until out of the blue, it clicks.

 _It’s best if you settle things with him yourself_ , she said.

So what’s stopping Frisk from doing it right now? At midnight?

Without stopping to let them convince themself otherwise, they roll out of bed and make their way toward the door. The knocking gets louder and faster, kind of like the backflips their heart is doing.

Hand hovering over the knob, they hear a passing conversation.

“Ugh, like, forget it, this isn’t gonna work … You don’t have any food at _all_ , burger boy? I’m starving.”

“You girls picked a _really_ good time to break into a hotel.“

“Shut _up_ , incel.”

Slowly, Frisk turns the knob, and the door swings open with a creak.

Bratty and Catty jump out of their skins - “ _Frisk?_ ” - before Frisk quickly tells them to _shush_.

Bratty sets her claws on her knees to level with them. “Do you have the key to his room?”

“Who?” _Mettaton?_

“Who do you think?” Catty says from behind her friend.

“We need him to do us a favor, now quick, before security gets us,” Bratty whispers.

“Okay,” Frisk lowers their voice to a whisper as well. “Follow me.”

Catty laces her fingers together. “You’re such a sweetheart, Frisk.”

Frisk leads the way, tiptoeing to room ate, where light is still peeking out from under the door. Their heart flips again when they see a moving shadow on the pocket of light under the door. Swallowing their spit, they turn the knob an inch and immediately run behind Catty. The door doesn’t open.

Bratty moves forward and raps on the door exactly three times.

A voice, muffled. “And who might that be?”

Bratty clears her throat and enters the room. Wearing his frilly silk robe, Mettaton sits on a throne of a wheeled armchair, fit for a diva. He spins around, stirring his drink.

“And what are you three doing here?” His throat is raspy and his hair is all messed up. He doesn’t seem to notice Burgerpants at all.

Bratty opens her mouth to answer but nothing comes out. Frisk grits their teeth.

After a bit, Mettaton says, “Have a seat.”

Frisk is confused. Where’s the sarcasm? Where’s the pizazz? Where’s Mettaton?

“Sit down, Frisk.” Mettaton motions his head toward the black sofa opposite the ottoman, but they meekly take a seat on the ottoman instead. He doesn’t seem to mind.

He sips his drink, holding the mug with both hands.

“Soooo …?” Catty trails off, eyeing her friend.

Mettaton shrugs, amused. “I don’t know. I didn’t pay you a visit at twelve in the morning.” He takes another sip. “So, what are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well, uh,” Bratty starts, “we have a uh, a favor to ask of you, if you don’t mind-”

“We paid Burgerpants to tell us where you are so we can get you to sign my butt,” Catty blurts out like she’s been waiting to say it forever.

Bratty stares at her BFF in pure terror, blushing like a tomato. “Oh my God, Catty, you can’t just-”

“You were gonna take, like, forever to get to the point anyway.”

The corners of Mettaton’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at the fangirls, and Frisk realizes how human he actually is. He sets his mug on the vanity beside the bed and reaches for something in the drawer under it.

“What would you like?” he asks Catty, uncapping the hot pink marker. “It better include my name. Come over here.”

Now _that’s_ more like him.

Catty claps her paws excitedly. She comes to sit next to him and spends an eternity thinking, rubbing her chin and scratching her head. In the end, she finally settles on, ‘To my biggest fan, Catty. Signed, the one and only Mettaton’.

Mettaton pouts, tilting his head side to side, thinking it over. “Mm, good enough.” And Catty flails her arms with excitement.

When it’s over and Bratty takes her hands off Frisk’s eyes, Catty is already taking the goodbye-picture.

Mettaton sees the happy girls off, at which point he notices Burgerpants. As soon as he shuts the door in his face, he makes for his bed and falls face-first onto the mattress.

Frisk shoots up in alarm. Mettaton chuckles and rolls onto his back.

“Boy, what a night,” he sighs.

Frisk keeps their eyes fixated on their socks. They’re alone. This is their chance.

“Well,” Mettaton freezes them in place with a look, “why are you still here?”

“I …” they falter.

Mettaton stares, waiting. Frisk looks away, gulps and takes a deep breath, thumbs fidgeting.

“I have something to tell you,” they finally spit it out, amazed at their lack of stutter.

“Mhm?”

And Frisk tells him all of it, blurts out everything that’s been on their mind since day one. The diary, how they were so _stupid_ to ask him something like that.

At one point, Mettaton sat up, carefully listening to every apologetic word that sputters out of the little human’s mouth.

“… and I thought it was okay because- because you, you, you” - Frisk gulps - “you were so mean to everyone as well.” They look downward in throat-clenching shame.

Mettaton’s knuckles tense, clutching his robe.

“I’m sorry. I’m a horrible person,” they close their eyes, realizing the truth in that sentence.

He opens his mouth and Frisk could not believe the words that came out. Very slowly and carefully, he says, “I admire your courage.”

They know what’s coming next.

“ _But_ \- what happened at dinner was utterly insensitive, and I don’t expect you can look me in the eye for a while.”

Frisk faces him. “But, what about you-?”

Mettaton stutters interruptingly. He wriggles closer to Frisk, and they take a cautionary step back. “I knew.”

Fear takes over Frisk from head to toe. Their little voice quavers, “What?”

“About the diary. You don’t think I couldn’t hear you flipping and chuckling to yourself in the middle of the night? I slept half a meter from you.”

Frisk suddenly feels very stupid. “Oh.”

“I’m not angry at you” - he sweeps his legs to one side, lying like a mermaid on a stone - “not for _that_. The other things, well …” He giggles and hiccups. “Ow.” He clears his throat and looks away.

His gaze turns soft all of a sudden when he looks at the empty glasses and bottles on the trolley. “I should stop …” he begins, but bites his lip like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Stop what?” Frisk says, and strikes themself across the face at once for asking yet another invasive question.

Apparently, Mettaton finds this hilarious, and they stood uncomfortably for a solid two minutes of laughter before he consoles himself again.

“Blooky and I had a talk before you came in.”

“Oh,” Frisk says again.

“About the, uh …” he waves his hand, searching for the right word “… hindrances in my life. They told me to stop drinking, is what I’m saying.”

Frisk blinks and nods.

“Really didn’t take a genius to guess, didn’t it? I’m working on it, harder than I let on. See? I’m drinking hot chocolate.” He points at the now cold mug of hot chocolate on the vanity. “It’s great.”

Frisk nods again, not knowing what to say. Mettaton looks at the wall behind them, into the distance. A few moments of silence later, he seems to come back to life, and in a murmur, he says, “You should go to sleep.”

Frisk looks unsure, and he adds, “I’ll be okay.”

And Frisk is convinced they really will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> want to learn all about the parts of mettaton's angsty backstory frisk didn't get to read? lucky for you, I already wrote it! I'll post it when it's ready


End file.
